


Wands Over Thrones

by Lady_Lilith



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dreams, Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25615087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Lilith/pseuds/Lady_Lilith
Summary: This is a crossover/au between Harry Potter and Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and FireSeveral children have been plagued by dreams of a strange and different world since their childhood. Not knowing what to make of it, Hermione has written down every dream since she could write. Harry never forgets these dreams. There is another who has these dreams.The night before the day to go to Hogwarts, all of these children dreamed differently. Now from the perspective of certain characters and able to speak their own words. They are horrified by the wars and blood of this dream world. They want to make it better. But, have they made it worse?Dreams can spill after all
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Minor Quentyn Martell/Daenerys Targaryen - Relationship
Comments: 29
Kudos: 18





	1. Writing History From Our Minds

Wands Over Thrones  
 _A Dark Harmony Story; Reincarnation of Jonerys AU_

** No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. **   
**~ Shirley Jackson, _The Haunting of Hill House_**

**_The blade plunged into her heart with the kiss on her lips. She couldn’t breathe. She was frozen. The fire that ignited her life drained with the blood now pouring from the wound. They part and she sees the regret in his eyes. His stubborn and Seven damned duty. She gasps for air now as emotions rush through her. She has regrets. She looks back. She wants to cry and for this to be a dream. A warning. Only this a warning, but not for this version of her. For someone yet to come. For someone who really was dreaming._ **

Hermione wakes up kicking and screaming. Her body drenched in sweat and her eyes searching frantically around her. This was the longest dream yet. Ever since her younger years, she had dreamed of a very blonde woman. Her story and others. Her parents had spent thousands of pounds for therapy. Specialists theorized trauma and tumors. Nothing added up. So, Hermione and her parents learned to live with the nightmares. Her parents tried to wake her if they heard her screaming. 

Once she was old enough, Hermione wrote down her dreams, even through she never forgot them. She showed them to her parents occasionally. She had to show the brutal ones. The Red Wedding was so detailed and scarring for eight-year-old Hermione that when her parents read what she dreamed, they researched. They found out about a historical wedding several centuries ago that her dream seemed to be based on but knew that Hermione had no way of knowing about it. The Grangers were beginning to believe it was outright magic. The therapy sessions continued whenever Hermione had gory and violent dreams. 

When asked who the people in her dreams looked like, Hermione often grew pale and didn’t answer. Catherine Granger had a sinking feeling whenever Hermione would look at her with tears in her eyes when she wouldn’t respond to that question. Aaron Granger noticed this and soon they stopped asking who see saw in these dreams. When a tall willowy woman knocked on their door one day and declared that Hermione was special, that she indeed has magic, the grangers thought they had answers. Not only was McGonagall befuddled by their sudden questions about dreams, but the fact that they described the dreams as alike long past events in royal history. The Deputy Headmistress told the Granger family all about magic and what to expect for the next few years. She encouraged Hermione to talk to her Head of House the night of the Sorting Ceremony to be given either a private room or silencing wards around her bed. The professor was worried for the young girl. She couldn’t even call the dreams proclamations of the future, but somehow of the past. 

The night before the day to got to Hogwarts, Hermione’s dreams were different. She dreamed of the very blonde woman she had come to know as Daenerys. She dreamed from the perspective of woman for some time now. Daenerys was sitting in front of a mirror with her dearest friend alive, Missandei, brushing her hair. They were giggling and smiling. It was a moment of happiness in Daenerys’ lifetime. All too soon, the dream shifted and again, Hermione was in the perspective of the Dragon Queen. She could hear the woman’s thoughts. She could smell everything around Daenerys in this dream. Hermione was almost lost in the beauty of everything around her. But then she saw them before her. The soon to be traitors. All giving her advice and smiling as if they hadn’t turned on her the moment…the moment…

Hermione shook her head to clear her mind, only to find…Daenerys’ head shook too. This was when Hermione’s dreams changed forever. No longer was she an observer in this strange story. She was a player, a character, and destined to die as this woman. Then, it occurred to Hermione, can I speak, can I change the actions of the future. Well, this woman’s future. She opened her mouth, and subsequently Daenerys’. And she said,

**“Yara, you will take the Sand Snakes to Bravos before sailing to Dorne. There’s business to be handled there while we defend Highgarden.”**

After Hermione spoke, the dream abruptly ended. She opened her eyes and found her parents standing over her with worry. They’d shaken her awake after coming to check on their daughter, only to find her speaking strangely. The voice didn’t sound like Hermione’s, but it came from her mouth, nonetheless. For the first time, Hermione was crying with happy tears after waking from a dream of that strange world,

“I can change it mummy, daddy. I can fix it.”

The Granger family spent an hour talking and deciding what to do after Hermione finished writing her most recent dream. On top of her likely dream magic, she is a real witch. Most of her years would be spent away from them around others who may have no idea what her dreams mean. They were worried. They were scared. They told their daughter to keep it a secret and encouraged her to be careful in this new world. 

“Hermione, darling, for your safety and sanity, keep it a secret. That professor said that you would already be at a disadvantage having not been raised in a magical setting.”

“We don’t know any of these people’s characters. If anything goes wrong this year, we won’t hesitate to look elsewhere for your magical education. You are our special little girl and we won’t let anyone hurt you. Muggle or magical.”

Hermione’s disconnect from other kids her age had left her to befriend books. Not just fiction though. She read all kinds of non-fiction as well. First to find out if any of the things she dreams of were real, then it was just to learn. Specifically, law and economics. She may not have understood everything she read, but Hermione grasped what each move in her dreams meant in that world.  
_____________________________________

In Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter lay awake after another horrid dream. Shivering, drenched in sweat, and now cold. Harry had thought the dreams were simply just dreams at first. But then he realized that the dreams were always in a different world. It seemed like magic was there, but none like he’d seen in his trip to Diagon Alley. Harry didn’t even ask Hagrid about it. He had the idea that dreams were not a common field of magic. 

Harry’s mind returned to the dream he’d just had. He had seen the story through to its end before and he didn’t really understand. Twice now, the story had run its course and Harry wondered why he only dreamed of this story. Of this different world. He saw his own aunt and uncle through two characters, although those characters had never been so physically violent unless necessary. The first Lady Catelyn Stark reminded him of his aunt Petunia. Alastor Throne reminded him of his uncle. But Dudley…maybe Theon…maybe Jeoffrey. Harry wasn’t sure Dudley fit anyone in the story at all. 

At first, Harry had thought the characters were meant to represent the people he knew. However, he only knew a handful of people. Seeing Jon Snow's story had Harry convinced that this was the story he was meant to follow. As the man’s story unfolded a second time though, Harry couldn’t idolize what Jon Snow represented. Having read Hogwarts, A History every night since the trip to Diagon Alley. Harry saw the man as a pure Gryffindor. Jon Snow was the man to idolize compared to the other men of the story. A hero, a man that ladies wanted, friends. All things Harry could admit he wanted for himself. But Harry didn’t want to be dumb either. Harry had come to completely agree with the saying _You know nothing, Jon Snow_ by the end of the long story. 

Now though, the story had restarted. Harry was curious. The perspective had changed. He **was** Jon Snow now. He was called the Bastard of Winterfell. He had no respect. He had only dirty looks. Especially from Lady Stark. It had been just after he’d found the direwolves that Harry found he was the one speaking and he was riding next to Lord Stark. The father figure that was ever distant. Even Harry wanted a father in Jon’s uncle. Yes, uncle. He remembered and understood the end of the story still. Harry opened Jon’s mouth and spoke,

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about my real parents?”

His voice was low and no one else but Ned Stark could hear him. The Warden of the north looked at his bastard in shock. Only to find that his eyes showed slight green in them. Too shocked to respond, Harry spoke more,

“I should warn you the hell that comes from Robert’s visit. I should, but then…well I can’t let you die as a traitor down south. Your family needs you. Lady Stark is going to get a letter of lies from her sister. Bran will be pushed from a tower. The children aren’t Robert’s. There shouldn’t be a war of Five King’s for all the kings to end up dead. Not with the dead coming. The Night Watchman was telling the truth. He’s telling the truth and hardly anyone alive now will be alive in a few years to face them.”

Harry could feel himself waking up. He was beginning to feel drained,

“For the lives of your children, don’t become Hand. Don’t let Sansa go down there to be beaten in front of court. Don’t confront Cersei. Don’t trust Littlefinger or Lysa. They’ll have you killed. They’ll hold Sansa hostage for years. Robb betrayed and butchered, Lady Stark butchered, your grandchild stabbed in his womb. I’m leaving now but tell me the truth. Tell Catelyn the truth. I won’t remember shortly. I won’t know-”

That’s how Harry woke up. Shivering and weak. He hoped he had changed something for the better. He knew it wouldn’t make Lady Stark hate Jon Snow any less. He was still a bastard. Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark, Jon’s true parents. The babe of Rhaegar and Lyanna was hidden too well for that truth to be uncovered in the story Harry knew. But there had been plenty of secret Targaryen’s from the seed of Aerys. The revelations of several character's true parentages cause only turmoil and more war in the story Harry had seen through twice. After the war with the dead, the wars that followed were tiresome and pointless. In the end, there was no throne and no one worthy of ruling. 

Harry hoped that tomorrow night’s dream didn’t have him screaming and wailing. He didn’t want to seem like a freak in Hogwarts too. Trying to shit his mind away from the world in his dreams, Harry then began to worry about his sorting. He had no idea where he would end up. All four of the houses seemed appealing, despite Hagrid’s thrashing of Slytherin. Harry wanted somewhere he could blend in. Harry wanted somewhere he could have friends. Having just found out about his celebrity status, Harry had owled all of the Head’s of Houses and asked for advice from his soon to be professors. Not knowing what to expect or do if people approached him. This kept Hedwig away from the grubby hands of his uncle and cousin. Pulling the cord to turn on the lightbulb in his cupboard, Harry had the four letters unopened on his lap. Each felt the same size. The only difference between the four were their names on the front. Opting to open them alphabetically, Harry started with Flitwick’s….


	2. Languages and Letters Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am writing this story and many others currently. Updates will come when I feel they are ready, I don't want to give filler chapters.

Languages and Letters Part 1

The Hogwarts Express was massive to all the small children boarding the train for the first time. For Hermione, she was impressed, but her mind thought of Drogon’s truly massive size and the ships from her dreams in comparison. For Harry, he was impressed to see such a magical looking machine. His mind wondered how fast the train could go and how Westeros would have sorely needed it for traveling.

Harry would have had a challenging time finding where the platform was if it weren’t for one professor’s letter. Each had told Harry about the setup of their House dorms. Accommodations could be made, the class size for his year was particularly small. There would be plenty of rooms available. Harry wondered how big the castle was. He didn’t doubt it would crush Castle Black with sheer size, but the greatest castle he had seen was Dragonstone.

Separated by the mass of the sprinkled-out families, Hermione was holding the hand of each parent, unaware that a certain young boy was only a few feet away. Her eyes searched around, not sure of what she was looking for. A flash of blonde hair caught her eye, only for her to find it belonged to a small blonde boy. He looked to be the spitting image of his father. The doting of his mother and the stern but proud gaze in his father’s eyes reminded her of the Targaryen's. Even though this family’s hair wasn’t nearly blonde enough to actually be of the dragon family, it was a stark comparison.

Hermione darted her eyes from the family, and she looked towards the older students, all at the front of the train. She saw more students looking for their friends than giving true goodbyes to their families, something about that struck a chord in the eleven-year-old. Her otherworldly dreams made her appreciate family loyalty and love more than anything. Even Viserys' love. Well, his love in the first few years of Daenerys' life. Hermione always wanted that feeling of protection from a brother. While she knew she got the parental love Daenerys dreamed of, both Daenerys and Hermione didn’t have the love of a sibling, her parents were content with just her, and having an older brother would be nearly impossible. Even adoption was expensive, and the costs of the tests run on Hermione as a child seriously put a dent in the Granger’s savings.

Harry, having no one to say goodbye to, pulled his luggage to a compartment of the train where an attendant gladly lifted the eleven-year-olds trunk. Turning, Harry looked around in envy of his soon to be schoolmates, watching their parents hug them and seeing their younger siblings wave as they approached the train. He wanted to be a part of this wizarding world. Harry knew it wouldn’t be like the one in his dreams, but he wanted to keep an open mind. Harry wouldn’t be like Jon Snow; he would embody several characters of the people he had come to know and respect in his dreams. Boarding the train with his owl and several books in hand, Harry didn’t look back as he went to find his own compartment for the long train ride. Thankful that the train wasn’t fully boarded yet, it was easy to find an empty compartment.

Taking the right-hand seat, Harry sat by the window and placed Hedwig beside him. Having three books on his lap Harry took a moment to feel his excitement build. His face grew hot as he broke into a bright smile. His heart was racing, this was real. Magic was real and Harry was about to go to a magical school. The door to his compartment suddenly swung open and a blur of frizzy hair and a small mass zoomed towards the window. She had dropped a few books on the seat across from him and stood on the seat to open the large window. Without a moment's hesitation, she leaned out and frantically waved while yelling,

“Love you, Mum and Dad! I'll write to you later tonight!”

Harry simply stared as his mind processed what he was witnessing, and his heart grew envious once more. After a few more moments of waving, the girl leaned back into the window and pulled the window back up. She plopped down to sit in the seat, finally noticing the other occupant of the compartment. Their hearts felt a jolt as their eyes met. Panic set in both of them, socially, they both wanted to make introductions and become friends. Something stopped them. They were both familiar. Their eyes still locked, their colors changed, and both were in the world of their dreams instead.

* * *

Harry blinked and he was no longer on the train to his school. Instead, the eleven-year-old found himself staring out at a field. Spying the banners flying ahead, Harry paled. Glancing around him, he found many more people at his side than his dreams. Robb and Eddard Stark, thousands of men, and women soldiers. Ser Davos at his side still.

Jon, Harry was Jon again, and he was about to go to battle against the Bolton’s for Winterfell. He spotted who was Jon’s brother being untied by Ramsey. Harry’s heart plummeted. He knew what would happen.

**_What will happen?_ **

Harry jolted, suddenly noticing Jon’s voice in his head as well. Flashes of Harry’s memories of his dreams went through their shared mind. Jon paled further.

**_…Sansa_ **

In an instant, Jon spoke, turning to Eddard and Robb,

“Sansa left to get us help.”

Both of the men looked relieved, but not for long, Jon continued,

“Help from Petyr Baelish and his forces from the Vale.”

Harry could feel Jon’s anger under his focused mask. The eleven-year-old wondered if Jon had really been so angry since his resurrection and never realized. Both Jon and Harry heard Eddard speak,

“She let us assume she had been taken. All because we didn’t include her in the War Council?”

Jon did not know how to form the words without sounding pissed, Harry spoke for him,

“They have been corresponding since she found Jon.”

Confusion etched onto Robb’s face, Eddard only nodded,

“So, the mysterious second party in Jon’s body has returned. Tell us, is there any way to save Rickon?”

Robb stayed silent and watched the conversation unfold. In his head, Jon allowed Harry more access, having control of knowing who the boy in his head was.

_You know who I am? But I’m just Harry._

**_I know your story like you know mine. All my early years I was plagued by dreams of magic and a school. Hogwarts. I will help you so long as you help me._ **

The two came to an agreement and Harry took a deep breath as Jon. Jon’s presence was suddenly gone, leaving Harry alone in his body,

“Ramsey will play with Rickon, shoot arrows as he runs to us. Rickon runs in a straight line. He gets his right in the heart. Ramsey is a great archer. But he needs to move around. If we chase after him, Ramsey will kill him quickly as soon as he is in front of you. The Knights of the Vale came at the last moment when we were down to a few thousand. Likely when Petyr assumed Jon would be dead.

You already have more men than what I first saw. You two are here, not dead and buried. Maybe you took my advice after all Eddard Sir. I don’t know what has changed exactly, since you and I first spoke it has only been hours for me.”

Eddard nodded,

“How old are you? We have spoken many times, but this is our second?”

Harry blinked and gave a shy smile that showed how much younger he was than Jon’s body. Both Eddard and Robb’s eyes went wide. Harry tried not to look so shy,

“My name is Harry Potter, sir. I’m eleven years old. I’ve had many dreams about this world since I can remember. I don’t know where Jon went, but he needs to come back. I’m about to start school and I don’t want to miss anything, but how many times have we met sir?”

Eddard blinked and glanced to Robb, he answered hesitantly,

“You and I last spoke at the Wall as Stannis agreed to go to Hardhome. You warned us of the dead, we got nearly all the Wildlings on the boats before the dead came. Jon fought and killed a White Walker in front of us all. Most of the North believes us. The Bolton’s do not care. We came to get my youngest son back, no idea where Arya and Bran are.”

With a shiver through the body Harry inhibited, Jon was back, and his presence sent waves of smugness to Harry. Jon nodded his head to allow Harry to speak once more before he would go back to his own body, feeling his time in this world closing,

“Arya is in Braavos, she needs this journey and training, she will return in her own time. Bran is safe beyond the wall also receiving training he desperately needs to become the Three-Eyed-Raven. If he doesn’t finish, the powers consume him, and he won’t be Bran. If he is an emotionless husk with little regard for what he says, it’s not him in there. I don’t know how I can fix that, hopefully, Bryden Rivers will see this moment and know. Bran is too curious, and it kills his predecessor.”

A jolt occurred and Harry blinked. He was no longer in a cold icy field. Hundreds of students were staring at him. Something on top of his head.

**Finally, here Mr. Potter. Your shared inhabitant almost had me place you in the wrong house. He and I had a verbose conversation. I know just where to put you. My initial instincts won’t do. I know exactly where to place you, for you to thrive and be happy. Let it be…**

**“HUFFLEPUFF!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Where and when is Hermione in the GOT/ASOIAF storyline?


	3. Languages and Letters Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's time in another world and her own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is AU.

Languages and Letters Part 2

Opening her eyes, Hermione found herself on the shores of a beach. Her body was kneeling down. Her hand touching the coarse soft sand. Daenerys was home. The place of her birth. Taking her first steps on Westerossi land. Hermione knew this was the beginning of Daenerys’ downfall. She would take Tyrion’s advice and plans only and she would lose her only allies in the process. This would begin the journey of Daenerys losing everything and everyone she cares for. It would all be for nothing in the end.

**_What do you mean it will be for nothing?_ **

Hermione jolted but Daenerys’ body had not. She was not in control this time. Daenerys was sharing her mind with the young girl. Hermione immediately thought of flashes of Viserion getting speared, a flash of the Night King, Ser Jorah protecting Daenerys from the dead then dying himself, Rhaegal shot out of the sky near Dragonstone, and Missandei beheaded at the walls of Kings Landing in chains.

Daenerys shook as she stood. Without a word, she walked to the long staircase to the castle of Dragonstone. The mountains of rock had been carved into monuments of dragons from long before Aegon’s Conquest. The island was covered by clouds. The air cool with a crisp chill in the air. Definitely, a colder climate than Her company was used to. Daenerys bid the child in her head to say something. It would be a long trip up the stairs.

Hermione thought rapidly, not knowing what to say first. Instead, images were shared between the two. Daenerys soaked it all in. The attack on Yara and the Sand Snakes. The attack on Highgarden. The useless attack on Casterly Rock. The defenselessness of King’s Landing currently versus what to would be in eight months’ time. Without meaning to, Hermione showed a glimpse of Daenerys on Dragonstone after Missandei and Rhaegal’s murders. Daenerys was mortified before she even reached the middle of the winding stairs. Hermione felt Daenerys’ urge to cry. Her dragons flew overhead, also getting these glimpses. Daenerys had opened the channel to them as soon as Hermione made herself known. They all acted differently immediately. Rhaegal and Viserion most of all. Hermione got glimpses of their minds; she had never thought dragons to have such depressing thoughts.

By the time Daenerys reached the top of the stairs Hermione had told her more of Tyrion’s ignorance that he didn’t tell her. She showed the Dragon Queen all she knew of Tyrion, Varys, Sansa, Arya, Cersei, and Jaime Lannister. The queen shook as she saw all her possible enemies and possible allies. Their journey’s, where they were now, what they would do. The young queen didn’t understand how she could lose so badly. Hermione was a logical thinker. She could not pinpoint it either. But she told the queen regardless.

_They thought the King in the North was the love child between Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Their source was heavily biased and hated you. Ned Stark did take the child into his care. He returned to Winterfell after the rebellion with two babes in his arms and several Red Priestesses’ under disguises to take care of the children. He claimed one as his own, but he was really the bastard child of Lady Ashara Dayne and Brandon Stark. The other child, he did not present to his wife. The other child was hidden well and is alive. It does not know its real identity._

**_Tell me. If I am not the last Dragon…_ **

_You are the last true dragon. But you are not the last with dragon blood. Viserion and Rhaegal could have riders. The Dayne family is a long-forgotten branch of the Targaryen family, mostly famous for their Targaryen features. The purple eyes and their beauty. Jon Snow only has the Northern looks, he is handsome and comely regardless. The child of Rhaegar and Lyanna looks completely Northern as well, completely wolf. Wild with wolf’s blood in their veins._

**_Arya Stark? But she is many years younger than me._ **

_The work of the Red Priestesses. They put the baby in a stasis, they had seen many visions in their flames. Lady Catelyn’s second daughter, her third child was stillborn. Ned Stark knew it would be and he loved the babe that looked so much like his sister. Some magic had to be used, but the babe of Stark and Targaryen blood was passed off as Ned and Catelyn’s. You were long dead when she found out. She murdered several Red Priests who had told her before she believed it. She was the Princess that was Promised, but that was the last time._

_A pretender who Varys has kept hidden all this time came forward for the Iron Throne. Claiming to be the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. Aegon was saved, but he is safely in Dorne. Not even Ellaria knows of him. Arianne Martell has resumed the throne in Dorne. The Sand Snakes are being dealt with. The representative being sent will be the real Aegon. He will befriend you, try to seduce you, and try to bond with one of your dragons. No malicious intent._

_Jon Snow will come to beg for your help in the Great War, the beginning of tragedy for you. Don’t rush to aide him. The North won’t be grateful. Let him get to know your allies and your advisors. Tyrion will have a soft spot for him. Varys will be suspicious. No harm will come from letting him get to know your rule._

**_If I cannot listen to Tyrion’s plans, then whose should I listen to? I picked him as my Hand because of his knowledge of Westeros and his sister._ **

_Yes, you picked him because of what he knew of his sister and Westeros. Much has changed since his absence. Cersei blew up the Great Sept of Balor that held the ashes of your family. Good queen Margery, you would have loved her, and hundreds of the lords and ladies of the court. The fire spread to the surrounding area and killed thousands. It still burns today. I hope you remember this. Cersei has wildfire, she knows how to use it because Tyrion has used it to defend King’s Landing before._

**_I thank you for your advice. It is only fair I give some to you as well and be honest._ **

Hermione fell silent. Confusion at the unexpected turn. What advice could a queen have for an eleven-year-old witch?

**_My advice to you is because I have seen the journey you go on in your life as you have seen mine. We are alike in some ways. I will tell you this, know when people are only using you for their own gain. Know that when a person makes you cry and feel less than what you are worth, they are not worth your time. I watched you cry year after year for making the wrong friends. I watched you make one real friend while spurring many other potential others. You need more than one friend; I need more than one friend. My advisors are my advisors because I have trust in them. You are worth more than homework answers and reading over essays. If others can’t do their own work, tell them to ask a teacher. If others have no confidence in their work, encourage them. This is your chance to not be alone. To make lifelong friends. Being a queen is dangerous, being a student in a new world also is._ **

Daenerys walked through the halls of Dragonstone, taking in the detail. The feeling of warmth spreading through both herself and Hermione. There was a dark beauty to it all. Seeing the remade Baratheon banners hanging in the halls did take Daenerys from her awe. Both she and Hermione did not like the besmirching sight. They both moved a hand and tugged with little force before the banner easily slipped from its holder, proving just how much Stannis and his men never belonged there. This was the home Daenerys needed and wanted. The ghosts of her ancestors must be watching with a smile.

Hermione and Daenerys walked into the throne room of Dragonstone. This throne had never been described to Daenerys, but it was beautiful. Simple yet it held power. It looked like it was carved from obsidian. Though it looked black at first glance, as the fires being lit in the room, a red hue emitted from the outline. Both stood and stared at the seat atop a short set of stairs before looking to their left. It was the War Room, the Council Room, and the Planning Room. As soon as Daenerys and Hermione entered the room, Hermione felt the presence of the queen leave her body. It was Hermione in control now. Hermione could make the decisions; she would make it better. There would be less death. Standing at the head of the long mapping table of Westeros, Hermione placed her hands on the discarded dragonhead pieces. Tyrion, Varys, Missandei, and her guards filled the room. She looked at each one of them with a bright smile,

“Shall we begin?”

Hermione was worried. It had been hours. Daenerys still was not back in her body. Her allies were now in the castle, seated around the table. Quentyn Martell, truly Aegon Targaryen, sat closest to her. His hair was dark in color, too dark, Hermione observed. His eyes had been on Daenerys’ body since he entered the room. The eleven-year-old in a twenty-year-old woman’s body was uncomfortable with the attention. It only helped that she knew he had no ill will to Daenerys. Not like the others, Aerys’ bastards.

Olenna Tyrell sat across from Quentyn Martell with her only remaining sons Garlan and Willas. All three wore black to show their mourning. Hermione was angry for them. She had loved Margery’s story too. If she could have warned Margery or even Tommen…but then they would oppose Daenerys. As good as Margery was, she wouldn’t change the world as Daenerys was.

Yara and Theon Greyjoy sat the furthest away, both still attentive.

These were her three key allies, Daenerys’ key allies. She would need to sell these people on Daenerys’ plans. They all looked to her, waiting. They wanted Cersei Lannister’s blood. They wanted blood to be shed and Hermione knew Daenerys wanted that to be minimal.

“Thank you all for answering my call and joining me in this alliance. I know it is a gamble, joining the Beggar Queen, the Dragon Whore…”

The vulgar words were foreign to Hermione’s tongue, but her disgust was thankfully taken as determined ire. Hermione took a breath and continued, the words coming easier than she thought they would,

“We all have lost family because of Lannisters. I lost my good sister, nephew, and niece in the taking of the Red Keep at the end of Robert’s Rebellion by command of Tywin Lannister. Quentyn Martell’s aunt and cousins. The Tyrells lost their sister, brother, father, son, grandchildren, and many loyal friends when Cersei did an act only the Mad King would be delighted by.

Make no mistake. I am not my father. I never knew him, but Viserys did. As I grew, my brother always took his wrath out on his baby sister. He was crazed, spoiled, and wanted what he never deserved. If my father was anything like Viserys, I understand why he had to be removed from the throne, but Robert Baratheon should not have taken his place. What did he give you all? A country in debt to the Iron Bank. A country that was brought to war again after not fathering legitimate children. A country not ready for any threat beyond your internal affairs.

I have three dragons. Still growing. Loyal to me. I have three armies. Still growing. Loyal to me. I have you three as my allies, I hope to gain more. We have a common enemy in Cersei Lannister. Her wickedness has only grown since she killed her husband. Orchestrated by herself and her cousin, who she also blew up in the Sept of Balor. I know about her misdeeds, her wickedness. My people in Essos asked me to stay, to not fight for a country so caught in killing all their men. So, I stayed and worked to manage three cities. I stayed to keep a barbaric institution buried in the dirt. My wish is to do the same here.

Varys tells me of the Realm. His purpose is to serve the people. Tyrion tells me of the ways of the Lords and Ladies here. He knows the laws and the wills of the highborn. For a time, I had Ser Barristan in my service. He told me of ruling, how it cost, who it cost, and the aftermath.

My goal is to stop the wheel here in Westeros. Houses turning and turning, taking the lives of the commonfolk and highborn alike for their selfish wishes. House Stark, Martell, Tyrell, Baratheon, Greyjoy, Lannister, Targaryen. We are all spokes on a wheel. This one on the top then this one. Who controls who. The reign of my family did bring peace to the Seven Kingdoms. Rebellions and wars started because of discontent within my own family members. It ends.

No more will the people be expendable costs to wars they do not care for. How many of your farmers and people have been working nonstop in the Reach since Margery gained her crown? The War of the Five Kings ravaged the Riverlands. The armies of each kingdom are sparse. Thousands died for not one of the kings who started the war to even live. Thousands died, were raped, defiled for nothing!

Families, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters butchered. Westeros is barbaric. You fancy yourselves better than Essos and even the Wildlings beyond the Wall. All the same, we all bleed. I think we all often forget that until our families came into wealth, crowns, and lands our ancestors were the common people. Nobody is anything unless they make themselves so and others recognize them as what they claim. I became a queen by marriage. I became Queen Daenerys, Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons because of my deeds. No-one handed me those titles as empty words. Mhysa, meaning mother, is what I am called by the people of Dragon’s Bay.

I care for my people and I show it by taking their enemies, the former masters, and give them justice. I will show you all that I am worth following too. It is Cersei Lannister you all want; I will drag her from the Red Keep, throw her at your feet and give the justice she deserves. Not just your justice, but the justice of the Seven Kingdoms who have bled for nearly a decade because she killed her husband and placed her son on the throne.”

Daenerys’ advisors and her allies all cheered. Their hearts being won over by who they thought was Daenerys Targaryen. Hermione smiled and caught Quentyn Martell’s eyes, his smile was genuine, and Hermione hoped that Daenerys would fall for him instead. Her love for Jon Snow only brought her a knife to the heart and no true love.

**_You hadn’t mentioned that before. Jon Snow became my lover?_ **

Hermione quickly looked away from Daenerys’ oldest nephew.

_It doesn’t matter. He cared for you, but he loved his honor more. Quentyn was the one to avenge you. He wanted to know you, but you let Jon Snow in instead and Aegon genuinely loved you. How long have you been back > I didn’t feel you return, I had to speak to them on my own._

**_And you did a wonderful job. I wanted you to have this. You know my story, how to make it better, I have been doing the same for you. You must go now; I know all that you have said to them. Your sorting awaits._ **

_Wait, I missed the train ride? I didn’t get to talk to the boy I was in the compartment with!_

**_Don’t worry, he and I talked. He is like you. Someone else was in his body. Be kind and know that you aren’t alone. Just as I am no longer the last Targaryen._ **

With that, Daenerys had taken control of her body and looked once more at Quentyn as herself and smiled at the man. Hermione felt intrusive now as Daenerys assessed the man for herself, seemingly pleased. A tug began to pull at Hermione and she found herself blinking. Her vision changing from the dark beautiful room of Dragonstone to one full of students staring at her. On top of her head, she felt a hat before a voice boomed in her head,

**Welcome back to our world young Granger. I must say, that woman you share a mind with. Her words…It humbles me to know that my sortings have been wrong for so long. I must apologize and make amends. You won’t suffer as you originally had. You will make your real friends. You will be more than a tool for fools to use. I will sort you where you will thrive. Where you will love yourself and grow to understand your worth. Better be…**

**“SLYTHERIN!!!!”**

Hermione smiled to herself. The named house did clap rather loudly. The others clapped respectfully, but two students from the orange and red house did make disrespectful sounds at her as she made her way to the green-clad table. There was plenty of space and Hermione chose to sit next to a second year, introducing herself quickly as the sorting continued. The second-year girl offered her hand and Hermione shook it gently before turning her attention to the rest of the sorting. She tried to keep an eye out for the boy she shared a compartment with. They never got to exchange their names. On and on the sorting went until a name that jeered a tingle in her spine was called,

“Draco Malfoy.”

The boy's hair was blonde. So blonde she thought of Daenerys’ hair. Most of the Slytherin table all seemed to have their full attention on him. Almost anticipation. Hermione questioned it but waited silently as the hat was placed on his head. It stayed still for a while. The hat’s face contorting to visible shock before beginning to shake violently on the boy's head. The professor standing beside the hat moved to take it off, fearing the boy's safety. Draco Malfoy’s eyes were squinted shut, a grimace on his face as the hat started to audibly shout. The man that could only be Albus Dumbledore swept over the table and many professors made moves to save the child. All but one professor. A man with a turban on his head. As the professor’s crowded the poor boy, the man began to shake violently. His body jerking and aging. The fires of the torches around him flared and Hermione swore she saw three familiar faces. Faces from the other world. The man screamed and his skin began to pull inward like blood was leaving his body. Students began to scream and scatter further away from the head of the hall. Hermione found herself shielded from the sight of whatever was happening to the professor, but she could see the boy had passed out, the hat weakly calling out his shorting, but everyone heard,

“ **Hufflepuff.** ”

An explosion was heard and the students who could see what happened gasped. The older student who shielded her moved slightly and saw the professor was gone. The fires of the torches burning blazingly and under them stood five kids who looked to be her age. Five kids, she recognized instantly. What were they doing here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's that for a sorting ceremony? 
> 
> I will make things clearer in the next chapter but if you haven't guessed: both Hermione and Harry can visit the minds of their counterpart character in ASOIAF/GOT and vice versa. In the last chapter, I did show that Harry has been in Jon's mind more than one time. There is no linear time frame in which Harry or Hermione enter the minds of Daenerys or Jon and they will continue to do so. 
> 
> Another hint, there is more than one other student who shares a mind with an ASOIAF/GOT counterpart. 
> 
> I mentioned that according to Harry and Hermione's dreams in the previous chapters, hell broke loose after the tv canon ended. More wars and death. 
> 
> I'll tell you now after HP canon ended (ignoring the epilogue) no real peace lasted and more war followed. Jon and Daenerys have indeed had dreams of HP canon and want to change things themselves. The first place to start is with the sorting of their counterparts.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it!


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